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Supernatural: Evening, Fall of Day

Well, those are interesting theories, but no. They didn’t all die in the crash at the same time. Everything that happened, happened. The flash sideways world wasn’t purgatory. The Church was a place outside of time and space that the Lostaways collectively created so they could always find each other. Desmond and Penny were there because the fans would have had Darlton’s head if they weren’t.

Let’s get to it, shall we? This door isn’t going to kick itself in.

THE ROAD SO FAR …

Carry on my wayward son; “You did it. You opened the door. And now he’s free at last”; there’ll be peace when you are done; kicking Larry in the head, shooting zombies in the head, bashing filthy ghost moppets in the head; lay your weary head to rest; following The Road under a kaleidoscope of stars; don’t you cry no more; Castiel kicks some angelic aspirations, Anna tries to reset the doomsday clock; thump thump, thump WHAM; You’re both gonna suck it up, and be the angel condoms that destiny wants you to be; once I rose above the noise and confusion; our boys looking pretty and pensive, breaking up is hard to do, the future’s so bright I have to wear a thigh holster; just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion; “Hi Lisa”, “Whatever you’re thinking of doing, don’t do it”; I was soaring ever higher; The cage you sprung Lucifer from, you can shove him back in. See, there’s a box, that’s in the hole; but I flew too high; You’ll need the keys. Gotta catch them all; though my eyes could see I still was a blind man; I stand corrected. We did see poor dead plot device Adam again; though my mind could think I still was a mad man; And no, he’s really not okay; I hear the voices when I’m dreaming; blowing zombie’s brains through the backs of their heads, trapping Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles; I can hear them say; What if Sam jumps in, “Are you eejits trying to kill me?!?”, Ellen and Jo go out in a blaze of glory; Carry on my wayward son; Add two more tics in the loss column *sob*; there’ll be peace when you are done; “You’re going to let your brother jump right into that fiery pit”; lay your weary head to rest; “What exactly are you afraid of? Losing? Or losing your brother?”; don’t you cry no more; Seriously Bobby, have you met Dean?

thump thump, thump NOW!

Chuck sits at his computer, working on the prologue to his latest novel, “Swan Song”. No one noticed the Chevy Impala that rolled off the Janesville factory line on April 24, 1967. “But they should have. Because [she] would turn out to be the most important carobject in pretty much the whole universe.”

There were a few modifications made to her over the years. The well stocked arsenal. The dream catcher. An iPod dock. Wee!Sam crammed an army man into the ashtray. Wee!Dean shoved a handful of Legos into the vents. They can still hear them rattle when the heat comes on. When Dean rebuilt her (Metallicar, NOOOOOO!), he made sure all these things – the army man and the Legos and the initials carved under the upholstery – stayed. He kept the things that made her theirs. The things that made her home.

“I guess that’s where this story begins …”

Bobby’s tow yard. Cold presses. No guest rooms. Sam reclines on the hood of the Impala. Remember when he used to sit like that waiting while Dean hustled pool? How simple things were? “Not really.” Dean grabs a beer from the cooler, and without preamble announces he’s in. Though it goes against every fiber of his being, he’s onboard with Sam’s “up with Satan” plan. He quietly tells his stunned brother that it’s not a matter of letting him do anything. “Watching out for you? It’s kind of been my job, you know? More than that, it’s kind of who I am. You’re not a kid anymore, Sam. I can’t keep treating you like one.” He thinks if anyone can do it, Sam can … but does he want to? Is this really what he wants? Sam heaves a big sigh, and considers the question. He doesn’t want to die, but …

“I let him out. I gotta put him back in.”

“Okay. That’s it then.”

Well, not entirely. First, you’ve got to trap a brace of demons, hang them up by their ankles, and drain them of the several gallons of blood necessary for Sam’s meatsuit to contain the Morning Star without blowing apart at the seams. Dean has a troubled as he absently rubs at the blood on his cheek. He joins Bobby at the van, wondering how much brain bleach it will take to erase this moment from his memory. Bobby offers up the few omens he’s gleaned out of the daily papers – cyclone in Florida, pressure temperature drop in Detroit, and wildfires in LA. Dean zeros in on the Motor City – “that’s the one. Devil’s in Detroit.” Dean’s sure. Sam stands apart from them, looking like he wants to cry or vomit or both.

The Impala roars through the night, hellbent for Michigan. Castiel slumbers peacefully in the back seat. It takes both boys a moment to realize that “angels don’t sleep.” Dean has a moment of clarity. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” What if it’s A TRAP?!? Sam is certain that Satan knows a lot more than they do; they just have to hope he doesn’t know about the rings. Let me know how that works out for you, Stretch. A brief silence hangs between them, and then Sam awkwardly changes the subject. It’s time to bust out the misty goodbyes. In a speech that plays counterpoint to the last time they were in the car hurtling to certain death and doom, Sam attempts to extract a promise from his brother. “You gotta promise not to try to bring me back.” Dean is horrified at the thought, and immediately balks. “Your Hell is going to make my tour look like Graceland. You want me just to sit by and do nothing?!?” That’s exactly what Sam wants. Anything else is too risky. Dean doesn’t have a choice. He has to let Sam go.

With a face full of hope that one of them can get out of this life clean, Sam offers his own dreams to his brother. “You go find Lisa. You pray to God she’s dumb enough to take you in. You have barbecues, and go to football games … you go live some normal, apple pie life, Dean. Promise me!” Dean smiles at the absurdity of the idea. The improbability of a life lived without Sam. He stares out at the road ahead, refusing to answer.

Detroit. Bobby stands at the end of an alley, surveilling a charming turn of the century six-flat that is just dying for a coat of paint and a loving rehab. It’s also crawling with at least two dozen demons. The Devil is here, of that Dean has no doubt. With the briefest glance at Sam, he walks to the back of the Impala, and pops the trunk. Sam and Bobby regard each other. The older man can barely look at him. It hurts too much. They hug (yay! hugging!), and Bobby fights back tears as he tries to give Sam some last minute advice. “He gets in, you fight him tooth and nail. Keep swinging. Don’t give an inch.” Sam extends a hand to Castiel, and with forced cheerfulness tells him to “take care of these guys, okay?” The angel gives him a pained look. If only he could. “That’s not possible.” Right, new to being human. This is the part where you lie humor Sam and tell him they’ll be fine. Sam tells him to just stop talking before turning to contemplate the four gallons of go-juice sitting in the Impala’s trunk … then he quietly asks Dean not to watch.

Some time later. With a grunt, Sam slams the trunk lid closed and strides down the alley. It is on like Donkey Kong! Dean follows in his roid rage wake. They’re met by two hench demons who silently man handle them into Lucifer’s presence. He stands at the window, his back to them. Hey brothers. So nice of them to drop in, although it does smack of a suicide run. Full of demon blood and bravado, Sam tells him they’re not there to fight. He wants to say yes. He closes his eyes, and effortlessly zaps the hench demons out of existence. He lays it out for Satan. They get it now – they just want off the ride. He’s offering the deal of the century. Lucifer gets to wear his meatsuit, and when it’s all over Sam and Dean walk away with their freshly resurrected parents. Yeah see, that’s where you oversold it. Lucifer calmly tells him to drop the “telenovela”. He knows they have the rings. Sam doesn’t blink. Dean quietly soils himself. It’s cool though. Satan’s not mad. If anything, he’s intrigued at the idea of a “wrestling match inside [Sam’s] noggin.” Just the two of them. One round. No illusions tricks. “Whaddya say, Sam? A fiddle of gold against your soul says I’m better than you.” Sam stares down the abyss. “So he knows. Doesn’t change anything. We don’t have any other choice.” Dean would beg to differ. He quietly says “no” as Sam says “yes”. With a look of triumph Jacobfer closes his eyes and blinding white light fills the small room. When it recedes and the silence returns, Dean quickly reaches into his pocket, tosses the key at the wall, and begins chanting in Enochian. With a babalouie, the wall is sucked inward by a swirling vortex of wind. It tears away the plaster and lathe until a great gaping Sam-sized hole is left. Sam comes to, crying out over the roar of the wind that he can feel the Devil inside him. He groans as Dean helps him up. “Go now, Sammy. NOW!” Sam walks up the door of the cage, looks into the black, and then turns to look back at his brother one last time.

“I was just messing with you.”

“Sammy’s long gone.”

A few more words of Enochian, and the doorway seals itself. It’s like it was never there. Lusamfer regards the key and then Dean. “I told you. This would always happen in Detroit.” With that, Dean is left alone in the room, head in his hands, eyes brimming with tears, a voice in his head screaming, “What am I supposed to do?!?”

Lusamfer decamps to an old abandoned movie palace. He flexes and stretches … savoring. This body feels good. This vessel feels right. He speaks out loud to Sam. He can feel him. Scratching away, trapped in his own head. He offers to take the gag off. They need to have a talk. It seems important to Lucifer that Sam understand – they’re each a half that makes the other whole. He does not go so far as to actually say, “You complete me”. Old Scratch is more subtle than that. He offers sincerity and sympathy … he cajoles and teases. “Such anger, young Skywalker.” Sam looks out at him through a mirror, a many-faced fun house reflection in the broken glass. He shakes with rage and pain, but Lucifer claims to know the truth. “I see it all. How odd you always felt. How out of place, in that ‘family’ of yours. They were foster care, at best. I’m your real family. I know you know it. All those times you ran away, you weren’t running from them. You were running towards me.” Sam doesn’t rise to the bait. He just stares at his bizarro self as if to say, ‘Keep talking. It’s a waste of my breath.’ Lucifer switches gears, and goes for the sales pitch. This doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Dean is still alive, and he will bring back John and Mary. “I want you to be happy, Sam.” How about they start with some good old fashioned, soul cleansing payback? He directs Sam’s attention to the small circle of people standing silently in the next room. His grade school teacher Mr. Benson. His friend Doug, from that time in East Lansing. His prom date, Rachel. Demons, all of them. Satan holds his arms out and announces, “Sam Winchester, this is your life.” A life spent at the end of a leash being jerked around like a dog by Yellow Eyes. Ahh, now he’s found the sweet spot. The chink in Sam’s armor.

“I know how you feel about the idea of not being your own man, and not being in control of your own life and destiny them. Me too. So what do you say you and I blow off a little steam?”

Bobby, Dean, and Castiel stand in front of an electronics store last seen in “Skin”. This time the bank of TVs report on the natural disasters that herald the beginning of the end. So what now? The angel suggests that they “imbibe copious quantities of alcohol”, bend over and kiss their aspirations goodbye. Perhaps Dean wasn’t clear. “How do we stop it?” Castiel is incredulous. Maybe he wasn’t clear. There is no stopping it. Lucifer and Michael will meet on the chosen field, “and the Battle of Armageddon begins. I’m sorry Dean. This is over.” Over? Nothing is over until Dean decides it is! Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? Hell no! Right Bobby? Bobby just stands there, broken and hopeless. He lifts empty eyes that can barely meet Dean’s. “There was never much hope to begin with …”

Not much, but some. Dean places a call to the Prophet Chuck. After an uncomfortable exchange about Mistresses Magda and fan girls Becky, Chuck tells him that the title fight’s location is hush-hush top secret … “but I saw it anyway.” The battle will be fought the following day, high noon, at Stull Cemetery – conveniently located just outside of Lawrence, Kansas. “It all has to end where it started, I guess.”

Bobby and Castiel rejoin Dean as he’s about to leave Detroit. Bobby thinks he’s going to do something stupid. “You got that look.” If by stupid you mean he’s going to try one more time to talk to Sam and bring him back, then yes. Castiel doesn’t think he has a chance of reaching Sam once Lucifer takes the field. “I just want you to understand, the only thing you’re gonna see out there, is Michael killing your brother.”

“Well then I ain’t gonna let him die alone.”

And so to the thinly veiled counterpoint to the Winchesters’ own relationship battle. Well, it’s not so much a battle as an epic unburdening. For giggles, I’m going to imagine that the consequences of this massive, planet searing, billions-will-die final confrontation are occurring offscreen, and the degree of carnage is in direct proportion to the amount of angst the two brothers heave at each other. With a whisper of wings they stand face to face for the first time since the creation of the world. They briefly engage in stilted chit chat, as one does at these awkward family reunions. Good to see you. Been a while. How’s the job? Have you lost weight? Can you believe it’s finally time to try and kill each other? They’re each as ready as they’ll ever be, although a part of Lucifer wishes they didn’t have to do it. Michael readily admits he feels the same way, and Lucifer leaps at the opening. Then why do it? Because Dad said so? Because he set them another impossible, inscrutable test? What’s the point?

Michael considers his words, and the possibility of just walking away. He takes a deep breath and then turns back to Lucifer, his face impassive. He can’t do that. He’s a good son. He likes getting the extra cookie. He’s also been harboring an eternity of bitterness and resentment that little brother ditched him for Stanford rebelled, destroyed their happy home, and made Dad leave.

Aaaand, there goes the Subcontinent and parts of East Asia. Namaste.

Fighting to keep his emotions in check, Lucifer points out that no one makes God do anything. “He is doing this, to us!” In response, Michael calls his brother a monster. He couldn’t save him, and now he has to kill him. He has his orders.

“If that’s the way it’s gotta be … then I’d like to see you try.”

Been nice knowing you Eastern Europe.

The two angels glare at each other while slowly circling. The pan pipes on the soundtrack are all like, FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!

And then with a roar of her engine, Metallicar clears her throat. She’s got something to say. “It’s better to burn out, than to fade away.” She slowly rumbles through the grave yard. Michael is enraged. Lucifer looks amused with a soupcon of annoyance. Dean slowly steps out of the car. “Sorry, am I interrupting something? We need to talk.”

Lucifer’s amusement rapidly sours into annoyance. “Dean, even for you, this is a whole new mountain of stupid.” Michael agrees. Dean is no longer the vessel. He has no right. Dean turns to the thing wearing his other brother (again some more) and apologizes to Adam. Michael sneers that Adam isn’t home right now. “Well then you’re next on my list Buttercup, but right now I need five minutes with him.” Anger bubbles out of Michael. “You are no longer a part of this story!” A lot of fans would agree with you on that point Chachi, and they’re pretty peeved about it.

“Hey! Assbutt.”

And here’s another country heard from. Castiel heaves a bottle at Michael. As the glass shatters again him, the holy oil inside it erupts into flames, instantly consuming the Archangel who screams and blazes away into nothing, leaving only stunned silence.

“Assbutt?!?”

“Castiel, did you just molotov my brother? No one [Richards] with Michael, but me.”

With a snap, Castiel explodes in spectacular fashion. The blast radius is impressive. Oh and um, Bobby? I think you got a little Artz angel on you … Dean quickly pushes down the shock and horror and turns his attention back to Lucifer. “Sammy? Can you hear me?” The Devil has reached his limit. He’s tried to be nice, “but you are such a pain in my [aspirations].” He takes Dean by the lapels of the leather coat of masculinity (tm TWoP), and sends him crashing into the Impala’s windshield. His head bounces against the glass as it shatters, and he lays there a moment, dazed. The Devil steps toward him and a shot rings out, striking Lucifer in the shoulder. That was just to get his attention. The Colt’s second bullet hits him square in the heart. I guess Bobby didn’t get the memo. He shrugs at Dean as if to say, ‘it was worth a try’, before his head spins around 180 degrees. Dean cries out, and then Lucifer is on him again, one vicious blow after another as Dean bleeds all over the car and tries to stay on his feet. Don’t worry though. Sam is in there. “And he’s going to feel the snap of your bones. Every single one. We’re gonna take our time.” Lucifer pounds at Dean’s face over and over again – a wet smacking crunch – and this time, the pretty really does start to come off. Dean blindly reaches out, and through broken teeth tells his brother it’s okay. “It’s okay, I’m here. I’m here. I’m not going to leave you. I’m not going to leave you!!” Lucifer slowly draws back his fist, Sam’s knuckles covered in his brother’s blood. We hear the familiar animal growl as the Devil puts all his rage and anger and hurt into the killing blow. Where was his brother when he needed him?

And then as the late morning sunlight reflects off the Impala, something else catches his attention. Through the window, Lucifer can see the little green army man in the ashtray. The moment holds and stretches out into a lifetime of memories. “I swear man, you gotta update your cassette tape collection.” “I’m driving.” Shutting his cake hole. Jerking awake in the front seat. Pranks. Cute college boy Season 1 hair. “We are so screwed.” “Listen to her purr.” Explaining Myspace. The secret. “We’ll find a way to save you.” “You know who else prayed? Mom.” Doing the job. Saving people. Hunting things. Zombies in Greenville. Daevas in Chicago. Suicidal teddy bears. Cross roads. Hook man. Eye of the tiger. Seeing a million faces. Rocking them all.

Driving with Dean. Arguing with Dean. Worrying with Dean. Laughing with Dean. Crying with Dean. Loving Dean. Being loved by Dean. The hug. Something in my eye.

“And here’s where it ends.”

The flood recedes. The fist slowly unclenches. With a strangled gasp, he’s back. Sam is back. “It’s okay Dean. It’s gonna be okay. I’ve got him.” He reaches into his pocket, pulls out the Key, and tosses it to the ground. A few breathless words of Enochian, and the earth drops away. The wind screams and howls around them. They both look at the hole, and then at each other. Sam gives him a small nod and then steels himself to jump into the void. He’s stayed by the sound of Michael’s voice. “It’s not gonna end this way. I have to fight my brother, Sam. Here and now. It’s my destiny.” Another look passes between the brothers. “Screw destiny. We do it our way.” Sam closes his eyes, extends his arms, and allows the vortex to pull him in. Michael makes a desperate lunge, grabbing at his jacket, but Sam has momentum and the yawning pull of Hell behind him. They both tumble into the black, and once again, Dean is alone.

Time passes. The spot where the cage opened is unblemished and unbroken – unlike Dean. He kneels on the ground praying for oblivion and waiting for tears that don’t come. He’s joined by Castiel. Huzzah! Two gentle fingers on Dean’s forehead, and his body is instantly healed. His spirit is going to be another matter. He slowly gets to his feet, and asks the question that everyone watching was wondering. “Cas, are you God?” The angel thinks it’s a nice compliment, but no – “although I do believe He brought me back … new and improved.” Because apparently even God is a minion. He walks over to Bobby, and with a touch, brings him back too. Dean looks at the Key – such a small thing that weighs so heavily in his hand.

A dark and lonely American byway. Castiel rides shotgun. He supposes he’ll return to Heaven. “With Michael in the cage I’m sure it’s total anarchy up there.” Dean sarcastically asks if he’s the new sheriff in town. Castiel rather likes that idea, and agrees that maybe he is. He doesn’t know what God wants, or if He’ll return, “it just seems like the right thing to do.” Dean bitterly tells the angel that if he does happen to see God, “you tell Him I’m coming for Him next.” Castiel obviouses that Dean is angry, and doesn’t help his mood by playing God’s advocate. Dean doesn’t care whether or not God has helped them. “What about Sam? What about me, huh? Where my grand prize?? All I got is my brother in a hole!” When Castiel answers, it’s with an edge of irritation in his voice. “You got what you asked for Dean. No Paradise. No Hell. Just more of the same.” But then his tone softens –

“What would you rather have? Peace or freedom?”

Under gray skies and in a cold rain, Dean takes his leave of Bobby. There is hugging. Yay! And, *tear*. They won’t see each other “for a very long time.” Bobby will keep fighting the good fight. There’s a rugaru outside of Dayton that has his name on it. There’s no hunting in Dean’s future though. “Dean didn’t want Cas to save him. Every part of him, every fiber he’s got wants to die or find a way to bring Sam back. But he isn’t going to do either.”

“Because he made a promise.”

Dean knocks on the door of a tidy suburban home. The face that peers in through the window is open and lost and scared and hopeful. Lisa is awash in relief as she opens the door. She asks if he’s alright. No. No, he’s really not. Dean ignores me and gamely makes an effort to play along. He tells her he’d like to take her up on that beer, but he can barely get the words out. Lisa smiles and steps back, inviting him in. “It’s never too late.” As he goes to move past her, she steps into him. He pulls her to him, and they cling to each other. It’s only then that the tears finally come.

Back at Chuck’s, Show creator Eric Kripke sits at the Prophet’s keyboard, typing out his final message to the fandom.

Endings are hard. Endings are impossible. You try to tie up every loose end … but you never can. The fans are always gonna [complain]. There’s always gonna be holes. And since it’s the ending, it’s all supposed to add up to something. I’m telling you, they’re a raging pain in the [aspiration].

So what’s it all add up to? It’s hard to say. But me, I’d say this was a test … for Sam and Dean. And I think they did alright. Up against good, evil, angels, devils, destiny, and God himself. They made their own choices. They chose family, and well … isn’t that kind of the whole point?

No doubt, endings are hard. But then again, nothing ever really ends. Does it?

With a smile, he finishes his drink, and evaporates into the ether.

Say it with me children, one last time with feeling …

KRIPKEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!

Lisa’s house. Time has passed. Weeks, months, who can say? It’s dinner time. Dean sits across from Ben, staring off into the distance. Lisa brings a bowl to the table, and quietly asks if he’s okay. Dean sips his Scotch and lies tells her he’s good. She sits down, and he comes back to himself. He tosses a roll at Ben, and they enjoy a normal, safe, apple pie meal that no one had to microwave in a Mini Mart.

The camera pulls back through the window, and then swings up to the street light across from the house. With a *zap*, it flickers and burns out. As thunder rumbles in the distance, the camera zooms down to the figure standing underneath it.

Sam.

—-

And we’re out! Not just a season in the bag, but the end of Eric Kripke’s 5-year story arc. Because of that, this episode had a lot it needed to deliver, and I think it mostly succeeded. I go back and forth on Chuck’s narration. While I thought it was very effective at the end, and always like getting some insight into the boys’ down time, I don’t know that it was necessary to emphasize how important the car is. We get it. We know she’s home. We love her as much as we love the boys. In fact, according to Kripke, more people were worried about her fate at the end of Season 1 than they were about Sam and Dean’s. I loved the montage of memories, Kripke’s good bye, and “Assbutt”. I love that Jared and Jensen don’t need words to convey what the brothers are feeling. It did take a rewatch for me to get the full impact of their final scene. Initially I didn’t feel any tension because I really expected a deus ex machina to save Sam. I knew Misha Collins was coming back for Season 6, so I didn’t worry about Castiel; I just enjoyed the explosion. Sera Gamble didn’t write the finale, so I assumed Bobby would also be safe. Jensen absolutely killed me in the scene with Lisa. The voice and the little boy face? Dead. Finally, big kudos to Jared. He did a great job of making Sam and Lusamfer two distinct characters. I also appreciated that while he made Lucifer his own, he also carried over echoes of Mark Pelligrino’s performance. Well done.

As to the question of whether or not Chuck is God? Kripke won’t answer. At Comic Con he did say that he and the writers have their theories, but they’ve chosen to leave it open for interpretation and debate. And despite his insistence of wanting to avoid “M. Knight levels of [d-baggery]” by using Chuck as his avatar – Chuck is totally his avatar. And so in that respect, I think Chuck is God because Kripke is god.

In terms of the season overall, I found it wildly uneven. While it offered some of the best episodes of the series – “The End”, “Changing Channels”, and personal favorite “Abandon All Hope” – there were several that were mediocre at best, and one – “Swap Meat” – that will probably always make me stabby. Looking back over the season, I wish they had spent more time dealing with the Horsemen and the pursuit of the rings. It would have created a greater sense of urgency, and the stand alones wouldn’t have felt so out of arc.

I’m always going to wonder what Kripke’s original vision for the final scene would have looked like. He admitted at Comic Con that some tweaking was necessary due to the Season 6 pick up. Purely speculating, I’m going to guess Adam never figured into it, and that quite possibly both boys ended up in Hell, but standing together shoulder to shoulder until the very end.

Ultimately I’m satisfied with the conclusion of the arc. At the beginning of the season, Kripke told Mo Ryan of the Chicago Tribune how the focus of Show has evolved:

… in the beginning, Sam and Dean were an engine to get us in and out of different horror movies every week. [Now] for me, the story is about, ‘Can the strength of family overcome destiny and fate, and can family save the world?’

If I had a worldview, and I don’t know if I do, but if I did, it’s one that’s intensely humanistic. [That worldview] is that the only thing that matters is family and personal connection, and that’s the only thing that gives life meaning. Religion and gods and beliefs — for me, it all comes down to your brother … it’s about human connections.

What you’ll find as the mythology of [Season 5] unveils, it’s this massive, Byzantine mythology of angels and demons and what they want and their destinies for the world. But it’s basically about two red-blooded, human brothers giving them all the middle finger and saying, basically, ‘Screw you; it’s our planet. If you want to have a war, pick another one.’

He repeated these sentiments at Comic Con:

It was never about the Apocalypse or about scope. The show has never been about that. That’s not the show at all. The show’s about these two guys, and their relationship. To me it was never about seeing the Apocalypse, it was about stopping it, and the emotional bond between the two of them.

So anyway, that’s my apology.

Now, I realize that your mileage may vary. Take my comments with a grain of sand from the Island salt. I’m one of the few people who was satisfied with the Lost finale, and accepted the explanation that it was never about the mysteries. Honestly, I was willing to give Darlton a pass for just about anything as long as Juliet and Sawyer ended up together. So, yeah. I call Kripke’s conclusion successful. I’m cool that there wasn’t some big blazing Apocalyptic show down. I’m fine with Adam being the vessel. The nut of the finale for me was that flood of memories – the good, the bad, and the ugly. At the end of the day – at the end of the world – what mattered most was their journey as brothers.

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